


Frosted Glass

by hutchabelle



Category: The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 13:17:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7978084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hutchabelle/pseuds/hutchabelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peeta wakes up to an empty bed, but Katniss is in the shower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frosted Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Peeta Mellark Masturbation Series

Peeta wakes slowly. His mind slowly emerges from a warm dream filled with images of Katniss and her lips on his as a soft rain traces down their faces in rivulets. He relishes in the warmth as he stretches his stiff muscles. He rolls onto his side to hug his wife closer and shifts his hips to ease the pressure on his turgid cock.

 

He finds Katniss’ side of the bed empty, but her body heat clings to the sheets. She hasn’t been up very long.

 

He blinks and rubs his eyes before they flutter open completely. Yesterday when they woke together, Katniss told him his pupils reflect his mood when he wakes. Instead of a clear blue, they’re stormy with a tension that can only be sated by a connection with her.

 

The room is cloaked in darkness. The sky outside is overcast, but no raindrops cascade down the window panes. It’s only then that he realizes Katniss is in the shower. The soft patter of water reaches him from across the room along with the gentle glow from the vanity’s lights.

 

He shifts slightly to his left and is rewarded with the view of the shower stall’s frosted glass door. He watches the water droplets trail downward in haphazard paths until his muddled mind registers that the woman he loves is naked and wet a few dozen feet from where he lies, unclothed, wearing a swollen cock that suddenly gains his attention with a desperate throb.

 

“Katniss,” he murmurs as the shadowed figure turns sideways and raises her arms to massage shampoo through her hair. As she does so, her breasts jut forward, and he imagines the nipples peaking under his hands. His thigh muscles twitch as his cock jerks and stiffens. His legs fall open as he plunges his hand under the sheet and grasps his hardened length before moaning softly in relief.

 

“Oh shit, yes,” he groans as his palm cups his erection, and he tugs upward until his index finger and thumb rub along the tip of his head. His balls tingle as he struggles to keep his eyes open and focused on the woman behind the glass.

 

Katniss tips her head back to rinse the soap from her hair, and Peeta imagines the suds running along her wet skin. The white bubbles caress her in the places he wishes his mouth could devour, and he makes a promise to himself that he’ll lavish her with his tongue the next time they’re intimate—probably later in the day when they’ve both returned home from work.

 

He finds a steady rhythm, his arm pumping slowly under the sheet, his breathing shallow, his mind consumed with images of Katniss’ muted body. She’s cleansing herself now, her hands passing over her skin and covered in the scented body wash that smells so much like her it should be called by her name. It scent is the same as the sheets—clean, like lemon and the outdoors.

 

His tongue peaks between his lips as he squeezes harder and jerks repeatedly. His eyes droop closed in desperation, but he forces himself to peer through his lashes so he won’t miss a second of Katniss in the shower.

 

His breath puffs from him in ragged gasps the closer he gets to his orgasm. “Katniss… Oh, damn!” he groans with longing.

 

He’s close, so incredibly close, when he sees Katniss’ palm brace against the frosted glass. Her knee presses to the door a few inches below her hand. He assumes she’s shaving until he notices the shadow of her right hand moving in short bursts in an area that looks remarkably like—

 

“Fuck me,” he curses when he realizes she’s pleasuring herself just as he is. Her head falls back again, her mouth parted while her hips jerk forward imperceptibly. Peeta’s jaw drops, and he quickens his pace in time with her actions.

 

Heat courses through him as he acts as a voyeur to his wife’s sexual gratification. He grunts his approval as his fist yanks harder until his hard-on screams for release.

 

Muted moans reach his ears, and he bucks his hips upward with the realization that Katniss can’t help but vocalize her pleasure. He doesn’t bother quieting his own enjoyment since he can hear hers. As a result, their combined sounds cause him to dig his heels into the bed as he rushes head long toward his climax.

 

Her hand moves in quickened spasms as her hips convulse continuously. She groans his name, and he spurts into the sheet.

 

“Katniss… sweetheart,” he groans as his eyes finally flutter closed, and his chest heaves.

 

He can feel his cock pulsing in his hand as the shower stops and the door slides open. With a jolt, he realizes he’s been spying on his wife and masturbating. Shame floods him, even though his logical mind reminds him that she was pleasuring herself too.

 

Frantically, he crumples the sheet around his groin to clean himself but freezes when Katniss addresses him.

 

“Good morning, Peeta,” she says in her smoky voice. He swipes at his torso hastily, but his actions are obvious.

 

“What are you doing?” she demands as he feverishly wraps the sheet around his hands. He blushes with embarrassment when he’s lain bare before her. Streaks of fluid glisten on his length and the cut along his hip. It doesn’t take long before he sees recognition in her silver eyes.

 

“I was… I just wanted to clean up a little,” he mumbles lamely. He knows he’s caught. Her lips quirk upward in a sly smile, and she drops the towel as she slinks toward the bed.

 

“It looks like I shouldn’t have left you in bed alone this morning,” she teases.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

 

“I’m not,” she assures him as reaches the bed. “Let’s see if we can get you as clean as I am.”

 

Peeta forgets his earlier promise to bathe her with his tongue. He can’t think of anything else when Katniss covers him with hers.


End file.
